They Danced Anyway
by Machiavella of Kingsport
Summary: Keladry of Mindelan adn Joren of Stone Mountain--it took them long enough, but now, they're in love. R7R, kindly? Oh--BTW, they're squires on a midwinter break.
1. Default Chapter

Protector of the Small  
Machiavella of Kingsport  
  
Title: They Danced Anyway  
Summary: Keladry of Mindelan and Joren of Stone Mountain-it took them long enough, but now they're in love. R&R, kindly? Oh-BTW, they're squires on a break.  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimers: Well-if you even try to tell me that the plot isn't mine, as well as the characters, I will severely hurt you. I mean, old Tammy wouldn't have EVER let Joren and Kel fall in love. Seriously...  
  
Chapter 1: Trouble In the Practice Courts  
Kel rubbed her shoulder, and then shook it out, glaring at her opponent. If this was Raoul's idea of a month off from squire duty, then Mithros be damned! All this week, in the cold windy pre-snow weather, her knight-master had had her out there facing various other squires on the jousting field. Today, her opponent was a tall, fine-muscled, blond-haired, ice-cold Joren. He glared back at her, his full mouth in a grim line.  
"Ready for second round," she heard him say to the monitor, who gave him his second coromanel-tipped lance. The remnants of his first lay scattered on the ground ahead of him. Kel leveled her own lance between Peachblossom's flat ears, and as the monitor signaled for the start, she urged her gelding forward to a full gallop. Joren did the same to his mount, and when the two squires met, Kel put her full force behind her thrust. What could be better for her ego than to beat Joren, her old foe? Of course, there was that twinge of regret to see his beautiful self mussed up as she watched him fly, enraged and humiliated, out of his high backed saddle. But she dropped her Yamani mask and grinned jovially at him as he staggered to his feet.  
"How was your flight?"  
"Shut it, Lump," he muttered, and stalked off towards the stables with his horse.  
"Horrible comeback," she whispered, trying hard not to giggle as she watched him disappear behind the large red stable doors, his long blond ponytail swinging. She was a tiny bit sorry she had to mess up his handsome face and body. Sighing and shaking her head with a smile, she dismounted and followed after him. After, Peachblossom would need to be unsaddled and brushed.  
Joren was just exiting the building as she led Peachblossom to his stall. He spat nastily at her feet as he swaggered past.  
"Girl," he whispered harshly. "You have no idea what that just got you into. Indoor practice courts in an hour."  
Kel frowned, her eyebrows furrowed in concernedness. If he was looking for a fight, that was what he was going to get-but wasn't he a bit old for such nonsense? Again, she shook her head, and began to brush Peachblossom as he snorted in annoyance at having been ignored.  
"Peachblossom, he has no idea what he's getting into. Nor do I-do I tell Raoul I fell down?" she chuckled, and the strawberry roan gelding shook his head from side to side. "We'll see," she told herself, "We'll see."  
  
  
She looked up from the book she had brought to the practice court, and turned to the door. Joren stood in the doorframe, leaning casually against it, a handsome smirk wide across his face. His fists were balled up at his lean thighs.  
"So, Lump, are you ready to be pounded?"  
"In case you didn't remember, I'm better at wrestling and hand forms than you. Let's turn the question around-are YOU ready to be pounded?"  
The smirk wiped itself quickly off Joren's face, turning into a sneer. "Let's cut to the fight, huh? I don't need to put up with this-nor the little practice joust. You just...caught me off guard. Put down your little book. Let's go."  
"Okay. So what do you do if I win?"  
"You won't. And if you lose-we'll see what I do to you at the squire ball in a week." He snickered evilly. The smirk had returned, but as usual-his eyes stayed clear, icy blue. Kel had always silently wondered whether or not he was always so cold. She sometimes even wondered if he was ever kind, and had friends, if that was possible. She shook these old thoughts out of her brunette head, and met Joren in the middle of the hard floor.  
"Joren."  
"Kel-I mean, Lump. What?"  
"Since you challenged, I set the conditions. No blows to the nether regions-for you-and no weapons. I see you carry a knife. Drop it."  
Joren's expression never wavered, and he took the knife from his belt and flung it to the corner of the room. Kel also started to wonder about Joren's recent slip of tongue. He did not seem as cold as usual-maybe a couple degrees warmer. Again, she shook the thoughts out as they began to circle each other, staring into one another's eyes. Joren made the first-and careless-blow.  
His large fist missed her stomach as she slid to the side and grabbed from behind. Joren cut back a yelp as his elbow bent backward, and he struck out back with his foot. He hit Keladry square in the abdomen; she stumbled back, gasping for breath, and before she had regained it, she used her right hand to give a blow to the low spine. It did not faze the tall blond; he whipped around, and grabbed the tender muscle in the hollow behind the collarbone. Now Kel bit back a scream, and bit her lip as well.   
She ducked, trying to hook behind Joren's knee to trip him, but she just missed falling herself. She flipped up and made a hard uppercut to his jaw. His head flew back, but it snapped back, and he gave a hard round house to her side. Kel caught her self in time, stumbling slightly to the side, and made a fast back fist to Joren's temple. He staggered, and his vision went slightly blurry. But he made a good comeback. He hooked an arm underneath Kel's armpit, and using his knee to the small of her back, he flipped her.   
"And who's a better wrestler now, Yamani Lump?" Joren stood over a red and embarrassed Kel, and gave her cheek a pinch. "I'll see you at the ball."  
When he had left the room, Kel slowly brought herself to a standing position, albeit a bit shaky, and stared after him. He beat me with a wrestling move? She thought incredulously, scratching her head in confusion. He must have an excellent knight master. She picked up her book, and made for her and Raoul's quarters. And I wonder what he's planning for the dance. Probably something not too bad-after all...he's been a LOT more mild lately...what's gotten into him? The cutie, she thought with a grin. Whoa...she shook herself out once more, wondering how that bit of mind had slipped in there...  



	2. DR. Neal and Co, Healer and Advisor Corp

They Danced Anyway **__**

They Danced Anyway

Machiavella of Kingsport

Chapter 2: Dr. Neal & co., Advisor and Healer Corporation

As Kel entered her room, she took inventory of her injuries; several bruises, mostly on the back of her legs and her rear end. Her shoulder ached a bit from the jousting. Instead of going to Duke Baird, she decided she was feeling fine enough to see her friends, if any were currently in residence at the palace. The first place she went was Neal's room.

Knocking lightly, she heard rustling noises from inside the room, and then a muffled "Be right there in a second!"

"Okay..."

In a moment, the door was open, and a tired and disheveled Nealan of Queenscove stood in the doorway. "Kel! Nice to see you!"

"Great to see you, too. How was work with the Lioness?"

"Well, you know--the usual verbal abuse and flyaway temper..." He shook his head with a grin. "Torture, basically. She needs a sense of humor."

"It could be you, Neal, you never know. Can I come in?"

He ruffled his hair, looking back in his room. "Uh...it's kind of a disaster area in here; just arrived last night from the Scanran borders...but sure, come on in. What's been happening with Raoul? Has he been..." he nudged her side with an elbow. "...Beating you?" A sly grin formed on his face. Kel smiled impishly back, noting how his eyes traveled over her body, almost psychically knowing she was bruised and tired.

"No. But he's been making me joust with just about every squire in Tortall while on vacation. I just got done with Stone. He has to learn not to be such a sore loser, you know?"

Neal grimaced as he motioned for her to find a seat in his small room. She found a little wooden chair and pulled it up to his bed, where he flopped onto his stomach. "Stone is just...evil, if you ask me. Pure bile. So what did he do to you afterwards?"

She frowned. "He challenged me to a hand-to-hand fight in the practice courts. And can you believe it? He _won_, using a wrestling trick I should've been on the lookout for. I am ashamed."

Neal chuckled. "So what would you like then, healing?"

"Of course. And a nice chat, too. You think I would take your healing for granted?" she grinned.

"Of course not. Well, you better not. Where are they?"

"What? oh..." Kel pointed out where her worst bruises were, but she omitted her rear end, for embarrassment's sake. He touched them individually, and the wonderful coolness spread throughout her beaten up body. "Much better, thanks. Now back to Stone."

"Don't tell me--he wants another hands-on rematch for his already over-inflated ego?"

"Er--something like that. We--I mean, he--he made a deal with me. If I lost, which I did, he was going to do something to me at the upcoming squire ball."

"Mithros, Kel--that's low. He's going to publicly humiliate you?"

She nodded, staring glumly at her upturned palms in her lap. "At least, that's what I think is going to happen. I hope it's not...you know...anything that involves the stripping of clothing."

"Gutter-minded, are we..." Neal muttered good-naturedly, as he finished the last bruise. "You know, as far as I'm concerned, that blond, long-haired pillock can go slit his own throat. Ugly, cheating little bastard. I'm surprised he beat you, of all people, in hand combat."

Kel thought secretly that there was absolutely nothing ugly about Joren--he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. His personality was his only problem. If he were nicer...never mind. She wouldn't dare voice these thoughts to her own head. "I'm surprised, too. Like I said before, that move he pulled on me was so simple, I feel like a baby falling for it. Now, changing the subject, so I won't have to shame myself a second time--any young ladies from the royalty you thinking of dancing with at this ball?"

As predicted, Kel's hopelessly romantic friend blushed crimson. "Yeah. Do I have to tell?" He smiled.

"Of course," Kel replied, smirking mischievously. "Spill it."

"You, flower blossom..."

"Neal, cut to it. You will never have Cleon's, uh, gift for poetic pet names. And I'd be scared if you tried anything like dancing with me. Who is it now?

He sighed, shaking his head. "You know, I'll make a bargain with you. If I tell, I'll get to force you to proofread all my gushy poetry."

"I'll pass," Kel said dryly, her eyes wide with mock-fear.

"Too late. I'm telling you anyway!"

"I hate you, Queenscove!" She pushed her chair back so it hit the plaster wall. "I'm leaving now, and covering my ears!" But before she could, just as she closed the door to run, he shouted,

"It's your sister Adalia!

Kel stopped, and returned, slowly.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said softly as she peered inside. There was a sparkling, faraway look in Neal's green eyes. "When did you ever get a chance to meet my sister?"

"It's a secret."

"I'll just ask her."

"Damn you, and all below!" he said jokingly. "Begone! See you at dinner."

Kel slammed his door, and she waltzed off back to her quarters. My sister? she thought incredulously. Again, where would he have had the chance to meet her? Good thing I stopped crushing on him a while ago! She shook her head with a grin. Oh, this is _too_ good! My _sister_!

She was shaking with silent giggles by the time she reached her own quarters, which were attached to Raoul's. She fished her key out of her pocket and jammed it into the lock, hearing the tumblers fall into place. "Raoul?" she called, to see if he was there.

There was no answer. She dug another set of tunic, hose, and shirt out of her drawers, as well as a towel and soap. A bath would be nice, she decided, after the beating she had received from Joren. She put food in Jump's dish before she marched off to the women's' baths.

~~~

"Kel!" A cheerful Owen of Jesslaw ran up to her at the mess hall doors and childishly wrapped her in a tight hug, nearly knocking her over. Slightly winded, she replied,

"It's good to see you, too," and pried his arms off her. "I thought you said something about not wanting to treat me like a girl anymore!"

"Oh, that," he said breathlessly. "Well—no sense in doing that! You _are _a girl, after all, so why shouldn't you be treated like one?"

"All right, then, what do you say—get some food?"

"Sure." They entered the mess hall, where Kel spotted more of her old friends—there, over in the far corner with Zahir was Faleron of King's Reach, and over in the dinner line was Cleon of Kennan, and Neal was already sitting down beside Merric on a bench near Faleron. She and Owen got in line behind Cleon, and she tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey."

He turned around to face her, jumped back, and nearly dropped his tray. He blushed furiously. "Ah, My Lovely Heart of the Sea," he breathed. "Will you dine with me tonight, Oh Kindred Flame of Desire?"

Kel went slightly pink with embarrassment. After all these years, Cleon still called her such nonsensical names. And the past couple of years, he had become quite serious about them as well. She wished, a little bit that he would lighten up and stop making a spectacle of himself over her. "I'll dine with you," she returned, "If you stop with the pet names!"

Cleon turned redder, and looked a bit disappointed. She wondered if he'd badgered her brother Inness about her, too. That would top it off, she thought. Then the whole world would know! Quickly, she gathered food onto her plate and went over to sit by Neal. Apparently, he had heard her and Cleon's brief conversation.

"He's still calling you those? Well, all I can say is, at least he's original. Never uses the same one twice."

Kel giggled. "If you were me, you would have killed him by now. Here he comes—you'll be next. 'Oh, Neal, Muscular Man of my Heart!'"

"Not funny," Neal muttered, as he dug back into his meal. Cleon slid in next to Kel, and she budged over just an inch, not enough that Cleon would notice and be offended. Owen shortly joined them.

"Cleon…" he began, searching his tall friend's eyes for further explanation, "…are you crushing on Keladry?" Blunt as always, his straightforwardness always got him in trouble. Cleon, who had just regained his normal color, went red once again. "Never mind," Owen said hastily. "Don't think I want to know!"

"Neither do I…" said a cold voice. Keladry looked up, startled. She saw first the brown tunic, then the collar of a yellow shirt, then a pale face, framed by pale blond hair. Joren, again.

"Joren, no one invited you to this table," she hissed angrily.

He ignored her and went on, clearly amused by Cleon's situation. "A big clod like you, Cleon? Oh, this is too funny. You and the Lump—you two will make fine young giants, won't you…" Kel could have crawled under the table and died, then and there. He had to overhear their talk! Was he stalking her? First the challenge after the joust, now this? She could only imagine how Cleon felt, him being the one targeted. She stared at her plate, and waited until she heard a loud snort and the click of boot heels on the floor as Joren swaggered to his own table.

But, minutes later, she was wondering why Joren would care—about Cleon, that was. Why would he care if Cleon happened to have a crush on her? He never meddled too deeply in the affairs of those whom he detested. When she finished her meal and talking among her friends, she went back to her room to ponder more about Joren.


	3. Dressing Up

Protector of the Small  
They Danced Anyway  
Machiavella of Kingsport  
machiavella_nobles@hotmail.com (email me!!)  
  
Chapter 3: Having a Ball  
Shortly after deciding that Joren's interest in Cleon's love life was completely harmless, Keladry left a note to Raoul telling him she would be out for the next couple of hours. She took a look at the sky-the sun was a small copper crown in the west, banked by fuschia and blue clouds. Lalasa's dress shop in Corus would still be open, and even if it wasn't, Lalasa would still be there. Since she used to be Kel's maid and good friend, Kel could still go in there after hours for mending and small favors. But for this she wanted to make sure Lalasa wouldn't be closing up for the night. She grabbed a cloak from her bed and locked her door, and headed to the palace gates.  
When she reached the shop, only a few customers hung around and inspected Lalasa's work. Lalasa herself sat on a stool behind a counter, stitching a pair of gloves to match one of her window dresses. She looked up as Keladry approached.  
"Oh, Keladry! It's so nice to see you!" She stood up, and crossed in front of the counter to hug her former mistress.  
"It's nice to see you too. I would have come down here sooner, because I was on vacation, but Raoul had me jousting against nearly every squire in the palace."  
"That's fine," Lalasa assured her. "Oh, and look at the state of your hose! Threads hanging down everywhere..." Kel rolled her eyes jokingly.  
"Please, don't fuss over me. There are people all around. I don't need them feeling put down because I'm getting special treatment."  
Lalasa smiled sheepishly. "Well, you are my friend. I'm sorry. Is there anything you need? Mending?"  
Kel smiled. "Well, clothing related, I guess-there's a midwinter squire's ball the night before the celebrations start, and I'm going to need a dress. I can't go about in squire attire-one of the noble girls might think I'm a boy and try to dance with me," Kel joked.  
"Oh, that would be no problem, making you a dress. Even though my business has sped up in the past few weeks, there's always time for your things."  
"So how much should I pay?"  
Lalasa looked insulted, slightly. "Free of charge-you know I never make you pay!"  
"Sorry. I'll tip you, in any case, if that's possible."  
Lalasa blushed. "Whatever Keladry wants, Keladry gets..." she murmured to herself. With that, as the last of the customers dwindled, Lalasa took her former mistress to the back room of her shop for measurements. "So, what colors are you favoring right now?" she inquired.  
"Well, I'm rather fond of green and blue. And rust, as well. Could you put all of those in one dress?"  
"Of course," Lalasa replied as she wrote down the measurements for Kel's waist. "Arms up."  
  
~*~  
  
"Come back to pick up your dress in four days," Lalasa reminded Kel as she stepped out the door, handing her one copper crown.  
"Probably back sooner," Kel called back, grinning. "There's more to my friend than just dress-making."  
Lalasa dismissed the comment shyly with a wave of her hand. "Good luck jousting."  
"Thank you." Kel wandered down the cobblestone street, lightly dusted with snow. Again, Joren creeped back into her thoughts. What if he decided to confront Cleon about his crush on her? If he did more than just confront? But she shook her head. Even if Joren was looking to make everyone's lives miserable, Kel believed Cleon could fend for himself both mentally and physically. And she didn't really think Joren would stoop to that level, nasty and cruel though he was.  
With a shiver, she wrapped her black cloak around her more tightly. A few winter flakes drifted down her collar. A tall, lean figure, blurry in the snowy background and dusky sky, walked her direction in a slow, meandering gait. She glanced curiously at the man a few times, but dismissed him as just another commoner. But as they came closer, she noticed the brown tunic and yellow shirt-the colors of Nond. The man was Joren. Before he could recognize her, she quickly moved to the other side of the gradually widening street. But he did the same. She stopped in her tracks, for he was now in front of her, glaring coldly down at her.  
"Pardon me," she said smoothly, sidestepping him and moving past. He whipped around, grabbing a fistful of her cloak.  
"Kel."  
"What do you want, Joren?" she sighed tiredly. "You've beaten me once today, is that not enough for you?"  
"Does Cleon...have a crush on you?"  
She turned and stared coolly at him, caught by surprise. "Why is it any of your business? And furthermore, why should you care?"  
"Well, I would find it amusing-two clods, one in love with the other. Could become the gossip of the palace."  
"He is not a clod. He's just tall."  
"Defending your caveman, eh? So I see, you have a little...thing for each other?"  
"Again, why should you care? You're not much of a gossip-you're low, but not that low," she spat angrily. "And besides, I do not have my eye on any man at this point in my life!" Her Yamani mask dropped, and her eyebrows furrowed. She wrenched her cloak out of his hand and stalked off past him.  
  
~*~  
  
Joren laughed derisively, but then stared a while after her as she approached the palace, his gaze softening. The girl wasn't delicate, she had proved that. But one thing that always stood out to him was her inability to accept her attraction to the opposite sex.   
He had, of course, tried to put it through her head some years ago, upon a stone wall just by Balor's Needle. He had realized his own inability to teach her the ways of life. But as a squire, he supposed she could do. He just wasn't quite ready to accept that himself. He sighed, and continued on his way down to the pre-midwinter parties that would be raging at the Dancing Dove, still wondering if Cleon's sudden attraction to Kel was mutual. And he, by Mithros, would never admit even to himself he hoped she didn't like Cleon back. He swaggered down the street, shoving his hands in his pockets, and let the thoughts play about in his head for a while.  
  
~*~  
  
When Kel bustled into her room in a hurry to get to sleep, she heard a voice from Raoul's quarters.  
"Kel? Is that you?"  
"Yes, Raoul, it's me," she called back, untying her cloak and throwing it over the back of her chair.  
"What's the hurry? You're making a lot of noise, and I'm trying to work."  
"I'm sorry, I'm just...cold," she lied, closing and locking the door that connected her room to Raoul's. She hurriedly stripped to her loincloth and breast band and pulled a cotton nightgown on over her head. The fire already prepared for her crackled and popped, sending out warm waves of air throughout the small room. She pulled back the covers and hurriedly slid into her bed, snuffing out her candle. She was dozing within minutes, and then a dream came to her...  
  
  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: PLEASE READ! This is the end of the chapter, but mind you, not the end of the story! I will be away for the next couple of weeks at Camp Nokomis, which means no computer, which means also no internet! I promise I will post the next chapter as soon as possible! *And don't forget to review this one, as always. We all like reviews, don't we.* ^-^  
  
P.S. In the meantime...if any of you are also Buffy fans, or if you also like short story originals, I have a few that need reading. One is under my other pen name 'SyDra', and it's called 'Heaven Dreams'. That one is fluffy poetry for Buffy/Angel and Spike/Buffy. The other one, an original short story, is under this pen name, Machiavella of Kingsport. It's called 'Sacrificial', and it's about a really morbid dream I had...hee hee. If you want to, you can R&R. Thanx!  



	4. Late at Night, She Dreams

They Danced Anyway  
  
Chapter 4: Late at Night, She Dreams  
She saw Joren standing on the edge of a grass-topped dune, his back to her, staring out at a roiling, frothing, stormy sea. Out beyond the sea was nothing, only a steel gray sky. She was standing far behind him, watching him like a hawk. He slowly turned around, as though he sensed her presence, but his path of view was over, above her head, and past...something she could not see. And she was frozen in place, unable to turn and see what it was Joren was looking at.  
Many expressions flitted across his pale, pointed face, his hair flying about in the heavy winds. At first, he seemed irate, but then she could see a little confusion. And then panic. She desperately wanted to turn and see what it was he was so mixed up about, but she could only barely turn her head. She tried moving her hands, and her arms, for maybe she could pull out a weapon. She was able to move them-but nothing was attached to her belt. She was defenseless, and there was a possibly dangerous something right behind her. And then Joren called frantically to her. She could not quite make out what he said over the howling winds. It sounded like he was telling her to turn around.  
"What?" she shouted back. At least her voice worked.  
"Turn around! It's behind you!"  
Now she understood what he was saying, but he didn't understand that she was trapped in her own body and could not move. "I can't!" she screamed. "I'm frozen! What's behind me?"   
Joren ran towards her, fear in his icy blue eyes. She couldn't help thinking how unlike Joren it was to show fear or panic. When he reached her, he panted, "Keladry! I d-don't know what it is! It's coming towards you real fast!"  
"I can't move! You have to help! I don't have any weapons!"  
He glanced wordlessly at her belt, and then back at her, frustrated. "But-I can't. I can't fight it myself."  
"You'll have to! What is it?"  
"It's-it's..." Something slammed into her with incredible force from behind, knocking her face-first to the damp, cold, grassy ground. Sharp claws-or teeth-she didn't know which-dug into her shoulders. Whatever had just attacked her screamed and shrieked horribly, and she heard a distinct beating of wings. And then, a large, razor beak dug into her neck. A Stormwing.  
"Joren-help-" she yelled, digging her fingers into the ground and trying to pull herself up.  
She heard the harsh sound of steel being drawn, and then a loud clang of metal on metal. Joren was breathing hard, hacking at the Immortal, but it did not move from its position on her back, only shifting slightly, releasing her neck from its beak and grinding its claws further into her back. She bit back screams of pain, but heard another...a yell of pain. She squirmed, knowing that Joren had probably just been sliced by one of the Stormwing's sharp steel feathers. Her legs were still frozen in place, but she pushed her torso off the ground, her muscles flexing in her arms. She could feel the Immortal shifting its weight, trying to get a hold on her as she pushed her body to a kneeling position.  
The clashing of metal paused for a second as Joren yelled if she was okay.  
"Don't speak!" she told him. "Fight!" She was nearly upright now; but the Stormwing now stood on her shoulders. She felt as though she were sinking into the ground with its weight. And then, she felt the splatter of warm, dark blood. Joren must have slit the creature's throat, for much of it poured down upon her shoulders and neck, drenching her in the sticky black liquid. She delicately turned her neck, to see what Joren was doing. She could not see him anywhere, but she realized he was the one struggling to lift the Stormwing off of her back. Now that the weight was off of her, she was now kneeling, sitting back on her heels. "Thank you, Joren," she gasped.  
He wordlessly walked so that he was standing in front of her, and she saw his large hand extended in front of her. She took it, and pulled herself to a standing position. He spoke then. "Are you hurt?" His voice was now cold and nonchalant again, sounding uncaring but for the question he had just asked her.  
"Yes," she breathed, still feeling the stinging in the gouges the creature had made in her back and shoulders. Her ribs were probably bruised from her fall, so she could tell be the ache. She looked up at him. He stared once more at the sea, which had calmed down. Light showed through a bank of steadily lightening clouds, and the wind slowly died down to a whisper. Feeling came to her legs, and she stumbled, feeling the tingling sensation one feels after their leg has been numb for quite some time.   
Joren caught her, and, wrapping her arm around his shoulder for support, he walked to her to the edge of the cliff. "You almost died," he said expressionlessly.  
She said nothing, only stared at the gentle waves lapping at the sandy shore below. He turned her around to face him, looking into her eyes searchingly, and she wondered what was to happen next. His eyes were cold, unfeeling, and she thought that maybe he would try to finish the job the Stormwing had started, by throwing her off the cliff. But he pulled her closer, and closer, until their faces were almost uncomfortably close. What was going on? She asked, panicking. Her body went stiff again, but at her will. Now, they were pressed against each other, his arms about her waist. And she found she could not struggle, as he slowly touched his lips to hers. A fire seemed to rage in her, like a fever, in her cheeks and in her chest. Joren's eyes were closed now, and she shut hers as well, feeling a wave of passion-  
  
"Mithros!" She bolted upright in the dark of her room, her sheets twisted painfully around her legs. She rubbed her forehead, and then sank slowly back down until her head hit her pillow. It was disturbing enough that she and Joren had just kissed, but worse, because she was the one who had dreamed about it! She was hot, sweating, and her lips seemed to burn, as though her dream had been real. "Me, having a dream about-about-Joren!" She muttered. The fire in her fireplace was down to a few glowing coals, and everything was silent and calm, except her. "What will be next?" she whispered to herself. "Daydreams? Blushing whenever I see him?" She was horrified with herself. "Mithros..."  
She sank back into slumber, wondering vaguely in her head about her dream.  
  
  
  
OKAY, OKAY! Who knows...this may or may not be the last chapter until August 5th, who knows. My mother is in a "Work my daughter to the bone" mood, and feels like making me practice piano twice a day, because god forbid, a piano at camp might be out of tune and won't sound as good! Dear god...And that's not counting the times I have to go to hour-and-a-half long sessions of Kung Fu, and then taking care of the pets of my neighbours who are away, and babysitting for various people...the list goes on and on. But wait! I'm forgetting 1:00 in the morning, when everyone but me, nocturnal me, is asleep peacefully! Okay, okay, I will TRY to crank out another chapter before I leave...--Mychy  



	5. Mixed Emotions

They Danced Anyway  
Machiavella of Kingsport  
  
Chapter 5: Mixed Emotions  
  
Raoul woke Keladry at an hour of the morning so early that the sky was still gray and there was only a slight trace of the sun rising in the East. Kel didn't complain, for she had always been an early riser, but she couldn't help her clumsiness and yawning.  
  
"Get up, Kel," he called from the other room. I haven't heard you hit the floor yet!"  
  
"I'm up, sir, I'm up," she replied, pulling on a leather jerkin and a pair of wool lined boots. "What are we waking so early for?" She quickly realized her mistake after saying that; she had always been taught never to question. But he answered just as jovially as before. She wondered if he was always so cheerful, even late at night when his head hit the desk from fatigue.  
  
"We're out to do some more jousting practice. You're going against Nealan of Queenscove and Seaver of Tasride first to warm up, and then me." Kel recognized two of her friends from the study group she'd had as a page. But she sighed at the thought of three rides at Raoul. It was bound to be painful. She wished he would give her a break from jousting once in a while. But as he'd said once, he 'saw talent in her'. As if to answer her thoughts, he added, "This is your last day, too. I normally would have stopped just the day before midwinter celebrations, but I see that having a dead squire would be of no use to me."  
  
"You have an evil streak, Raoul," she commented dryly, through the door that connected their rooms. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
She strode out her room, locking her door, and found Raoul standing outside as well. Together they walked down to the tilting fields, where Kel spotted the two friends she was to joust against. *Here we go again...* she thought dismally.  
  
~*~  
  
"Just think of it this way, Kel," Neal began reassuringly. "At least you stayed on your saddle two-thirds of the time. I probably wouldn't have lasted one ride." He walked beside his best friend to the stables, Kel standing between him and her foul-tempered gelding Peachblossom. Kel grinned at the thought of Neal against Raoul, still rubbing her right shoulder from her own match.  
  
"I think you're right about that. You didn't last a single ride with ME," she reminded him. He punched her lightly on her shoulder, feigning a hurt expression.  
  
"Don't rub it in."  
  
"Too bad. And wrong shoulder." She hissed slightly with the pain.  
  
"Sorry. When you're done brushing and cleaning up, how about some breakfast?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
He grinned. "See you then." He walked out of the barn that they had just entered and made his way to the mess hall.  
  
~*~  
  
Over breakfast, Kel silently hemmed and hawed over whether or not to discuss Joren's uncharacteristic concern with the lives of her and her friends. It gnawed at her, affecting her in every way. When she began to mutilate her sausage, Neal leaned over the table and asked in a low voice if she was all right.  
  
For the first time in her life, she replied truthfully about what she felt inside. "I'm worried...about Joren."  
  
"Joren?" he whispered back. Conversation between their friends died down around them as they leaned in closer to hear. Neal and Kel did not seem to notice or care.  
  
"Joren. Haven't you noticed...he's become more...interfering lately? More...annoying, perhaps?" Kel asked, her food now disregarded and her elbow very close to the plate. Her fork was pointed up in the air carelessly, and she fiddled with it absentmindedly as she spoke.  
  
"Well, no, to tell the truth," Neal said, taken aback. Kel wondered about his tone of voice. It felt as though he read her mind about her dream last night, which was one of the things she had been thinking about just then. Neal had a quizzical look upon his face.  
  
"Like last night," she continued hurriedly. "At dinner? How he actually started caring about someone else's life? Like Cleon's, perhaps? I mean, why would he need to know if Cleon had a crush on me?" Unbeknownst to her, Cleon had turned a shade of scarlet and was humming, twiddling his fingers and pretending not to know anything, obviously embarrassed.  
  
"Well, I have to admit, that WAS strange," remarked Owen, jumping into the conversation. "Er, stranger than usual."  
  
"Exactly!" Kel turned to her right, where Owen sat. "Isn't it so...not Joren?"  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
"And-you know what happened on the way back from Lalasa's dress shop? Joren was walking in my direction from the palace and he blocked my path, asking if Cleon liked me. He looked...really anxious, if you know what I mean. Like...like it was eating him up!" It was very unlike Kel to gossip or babble like she was doing, but she felt she had to let her friends know.  
  
"That's just weird," Faleron commented.  
  
"So you think he's got a thing for you, is that it?" Cleon inquired despairingly. "And you're all worked up over it?"  
  
Kel bowed her head regretfully. "I'm sorry if this is bothering you, Cleon. I am. It's just...well, it scares me, that Joren wants to confront me about your lo-personal life," she corrected herself.  
  
"It's all right. I'll-I'll leave for a minute." He got up and walked quickly out the mess hall door, looking a bit sick. Sighing, she turned back to Neal, adding quietly about some other things she wanted to mention, not in front of everyone else. They simultaneously got up and went in the direction of themes hall exit, only to find themselves impeded by a tall, slender, male figure. Kel looked slowly up. Joren stood, feet spread apart, hands planted on hips, mouth set in a grime line.   
  
"I'd like a word..." he sneered. "Queenscove-go, get to your room, read a nice...book, or something." He pushed him slightly from the back, sending Neal into the plate glass window of the door in front of him. He then grabbed Kel's sleeve, who only stood, completely dumbfounded. What could Joren possibly want now? More information on Cleon's love life? She watched Neal stride hastily in the direction of his quarters, looking back every now and then to make sure he wasn't being stalked by the blond-haired menace. AS for Kel-she was wrenched forward, through the same doors Neal had been shoved through.  
  
The next thing she knew, she was being slammed against a stone wall forcefully. "Mindelan!" Joren roared, his face pink from exertion. A strand of hair flopped out over his forehead, escaping his ponytail. He looked frazzled, mentally. Kel tried her best to make her face blank, but the rough stone cutting into her back was quite painful. "How-how DARE you even-SUGGEST that I care...one OUNCE for what goes on in your life? How dare you?!" He spat irately. His cold blue eyes pieced her hazel ones, and she blanched slightly. "Telling your little friends how you think I'm obsessed with the thought of Cleon having a thing for you? You...you..." but he couldn't seem to find a proper insult. "Lump!"  
  
"I dare suggest that...because..." Joren's hands moved to her throat. "...because you made an effort...to...to...talk to me yesterday about it!" she replied, nearly choking. "I think that's reason enough!"  
  
Joren looked away, getting redder, and seemingly more frustrated. "You-you are insolent, you-Yamani pig-sticker! Coming from savage islands..." He was breathing very hard, his lower lip sticking out. "You don't, you don'thave to go TELLING your little cronies about everything, little, little tattle-tale!" Kel shook her head mentally. His demeanor and insults were becoming quite childish, even for him.  
  
"Listen to me, Stone Mountain," she said coldly, mindful of the hands at her neck and the stone at her shoulder blades. "You are getting out of hand, QUITE out of hand, and my telling my friends that I'm concerned about what you're doing is not such a deal. I do not see why you bother to abuse me over it!"  
  
Joren released her, and turned his back to her, calming slightly, but still angry looking and dangerous. "Just keep your trap shut from now on, hear," he muttered, and stalked off. Rather poleaxed, Kel walked to Neal's room,rubbing her neck unconsciously from where Joren had wrung it. Looking at his retreating back, she muttered,  
  
"If I didn't know better, I'd start taking Cleon's point of view on him..."  
  
A/N-I'm pretty sure this is as much as I can crank out for tonight! Maybe Friday, maybe Friday...we'll see. But please don't tell me I'm evil and fickle for going to camp, it's been paid for, and frankly, it's a good break from my mom making me type up Office Payroll and Expense, and making me bug other refrigeration companies on sending credits for paid invoices. (LOL). Instead, I'll be water-skiing and swimming, two of my favorite things after writing and piano. But I'll try, I am NOT promising anything.--Mychy  



	6. Epiphany

They Danced Anyway  
Machiavella of Kingsport  
  
Chapter 6: Epiphany  
  
Kel, still very mussed up and disturbed by her short and aggressive encounter with Joren, knocked lightly on the door to Neal's room. She still wanted to talk to him about the latter male, who without doubt was probably still steaming in his own quarters.  
  
"Come in, Kel. I know it's you."  
  
She opened the door slowly, peering in first, and then stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind her. "I'd still like to talk about Joren, if you don't mind. It's been bugging me all morning, and I just..." she trailed off. Neal finished for her.  
  
"Don't feel comfortable talking in front of everyone else?"  
  
"Exactly," she replied, letting out a long sigh.  
  
"In which case," he said slowly, "We might want to find a different place to talk. Alanna's in the other room." Neal slid off his bed, landing feet first on the floor, and quietly opened the door to let the two of them out.  
  
"So-where? The library?"  
  
"Just as long as no one else is there," he replied. They walked to the library, and seeing that there were no other occupants, they stepped in and found a table in a far corner. When they sat down, he started talking again. "So, what you told me this morning was not all of it."  
  
"Right. Uh...Joren and I were jousting yesterday, and I beat him on the second run." Neal grinned. Kel continued. "Well, in the stables, he was really mad, and he arranged a...duel, of sorts, in the practice courts. He beat me."  
  
"You told me all of this yesterday. Including the part where he threatened to do something at the dance."  
  
"I know. So-he confronted me yesterday, and kept pestering me about Cleon, because there was that whole dinner spiel."  
  
"That was WEIRD," he agreed, but silenced himself so she would keep telling.  
  
"Well, last night...I-I dreamed." Kel turned slightly pink, but controlled her features. "There was a...a Stormwing behind me, and I couldn't see it, and I didn't know what it was at first. I was paralyzed and could only move my hands and arms and head. And then it pinned me to the ground. Joren was in my dream too. He kept trying to tell me that I was in danger, and when he realized I couldn't do anything, he rescued me and killed the Stormwing." She halted, unsure whether or not she should include the last part. Neal looked at her expectantly. She coughed, reddening a little more.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Joren and I...in my dream, that is..."she paused. "We-we kissed. And, and...in my dream...I liked it." She put her head face down in her crossed arms, trying to hide her crimson face. Neal was a bit pink himself just thinking about it.  
  
"What's it all leading to?" Neal asked her, putting a finger underneath her chin and lifting her head. "What do you think?"  
  
"I have to tell you what Joren did today when he grabbed me. It was...it was really...um." She searched for an adjective. "Disturbing, I guess."  
  
"And?"  
  
"He got really mad and he had his hands around my neck, and he shoved me against the wall outside the mess hall. He was irate...that...that I had told you guys about him and all. And that was even when I didn't tell the rest about how he had threatened me yesterday. And he wouldn't calm down. He just...got so frustrated that he left me alone."  
  
"Are you hurt at all?"  
  
"NO." Kel had her pride, and besides, it HADN'T hurt. He had only been so close to strangling her, but all the same...she wouldn't mention any physical pain.  
  
"Basically, what do you think this all adds up to?"  
  
"I know it sounds crazy, Neal, but...I think he likes me. You know, in that...that way." She blushed again, smiling, and ashamed. "I'm disgusted with myself for even thinking about that. I think it was the dream last night that's making me so crazy like this."  
  
"I don't think it's craziness at all, Kel," Neal said, contemplating the situation. "I think I agree."  
  
"That was what I was afraid of." She sighed, and rested her head tiredly on a hand. "What am I supposed to do about it? Just...wait, and see what happens?"  
  
"I guess. Try not to tick him off. He might get violent. Or, more violent, I should say," he added, smiling. "And as for the dance? Just to be sure, don't wear anything too nice. He could use the fruit punch as a last resort."  
  
"Whoops," Kel replied jokingly. "Too late for that!"  
  
"I should've known." He grinned again. "Well, I might as well go to Corus. I have gifts to buy. Do you want to come along?"  
  
"You should know better," Kel informed him loftily. "I ALWAYS buy my gifts in advance!"  
  
"Stupid Neal. See you midday?" He inquired, grinning.  
  
"Sure."  
  
~*~  
  
Kel froze as she watched Neal disappear down the hallway. She had forgotten to mention the one thing she would only confide with him. But she had been reluctant to tell anyone, for that matter. She was reluctant even to admit it to herself.  
  
"Kel, Kel...what has it come to, this?" she muttered to herself quietly, shaking her head in her hands. "You dream about the evil, bullying madman one time and already you get the shivers whenever you think about him?"  
  
A/N: hoped you enjoyed this chapter. It was a bit short, I know, but hey. There is the mother downstairs making me do her work up here in the stuffy office. Grrr, the bitch. ::envisions hands wrapped around her mother's neck:: Much better. Now, I don't know that I'll have time to type a seventh chapter on Friday as I'd like to, so for another...two weeks, you'll likely have to settle for this. In the meantime...who knows. I'll post chapter seven as soon as I get back! ::Camp Nokomis, here I come...::  



	7. Actually, chapters 7, 8, 9, and 10 combi...

They Danced Anyway  
Machiavella of Kingsport  
  
A/N: Before I begin, I'd like you people to know-I'm really sorry I haven't posted in so long! I know, you're thinking, here comes another bad excuse. But it's a good one-my parents had me grounded from the computer for two weeks after I got home from Camp Nokomis. So basically this summer, I've been away from the computer six weeks in a row. The first time I was grounded, plus camp, plus the second time I was grounded. Harsh world, isn't it? Let's just hope they don't see fit to ground me a third time. I really think it would kill me. Another thing you might want to know-this looks like just chapter seven-but it isn't. It's seven, eight, nine, and ten combined. They're just posted as one chapter, but they're divided so that you know when it's a new chapter. Get it? Enjoy, and don't forget to review...  
  
Chapter 7:Alone With Her Thoughts  
The swishing sound of the air around Kel being disturbed by her glaive was music to her ears. She settled into a lunging stance, the long, teak staff gliding through her grasp and the blue steel blade flashing forward. Alone in the practice courts, Kel went through her naginata pattern dances, progressing from the easiest to the most advanced.  
She had originally come here to clear her mind of the ruckus and chaos inside; instead, her head was filled to the brim with wild thoughts. Unsurprisingly, most of them were of Joren. Kel's shoulder blades were still smarting from her little encounter that very morning with the handsome blond squire, from him thrusting her against the rough stone wall. Yet her thoughts were not of the pain, but of Joren himself.  
Kel was still wondering why Joren had been so frightened of others knowing what was going on between the two of them. After all, nothing much was really happening-except for the fact that he was treating her in strange ways-stranger ways than usual. But surely none of Kel's friends besides Neal would go so far as to believe Joren had more feelings for her than resentment and hate. But as for Kel, she was beginning to believe that herself. All these years, had he been using hate to cover up for attraction? After all, it had been years since he'd told her how 'wrong' it was that she was a girl and training to be a knight. He hardly seemed to defend his ideals at all, in fact. But she still didn't think he'd cover up attraction by pretending to despise her.  
But the way he'd looked as though in desperation when he met her on the streets of Corus haunted her. Kel's mind had been closed to Joren's facial expressions at the time, but now she recalled exactly how he'd appeared: his blue eyes were wide and wild, and his mouth had been pulled into a worried frown. Not as though he'd been jeering, but as though he was in angst, instead. As though he were worried that Kel had feelings for Cleon as Cleon did for her.  
And how Joren had scoffed at Cleon's liking Kel during dinner. It seemed to her that he was covering up for a crush of his own that way. But was she making too much of everything? She tried once again to concentrate on her glaive, but the thoughts whirled around, making her dizzy. And then came a most preposterous question: Why, in the name of Mithros, was she suddenly attracted to Joren? But she had no time to answer herself. A tall figure fell heavily and purposefully against one of the walls of the building around the courts, interrupting her glaive practice. She halted, letting the weapon slide through her hand to plant itself on the ground.  
"Mindelan."  
She twitched at the sound of the voice, for all of its coldness and seeming indifference betrayed the speaker. She turned, inclining her head respectfully, so as not to cross him again.  
"Joren."  
For a while, the squires stood staring at each other from a distance, their faces blank. Finally, Joren ducked his head rather shamefully and moved along the walls so that the two were within reasonable speaking distance.  
"Is there something you want?" Kel asked carefully and warily, trying not to sound too nasty. There was heavy silence before Joren sighed and answered, so quietly that Kel had to hang onto every word.  
"I've come to apologize." Kel was stunned senseless. Mithros, tell me I'm insane and strike me dead! Joren coming to apologize...it made her think he had something up his sleeve. But she waited patiently for an answer. "For this morning. I...I shouldn't have overreacted." He was mumbling again, but Kel heard, and though she felt she deserved an apology at the least, she was dumbstruck. It would take the will of the gods to drag proper regret out of such a stubborn person as Joren. Joren continued, gritting his teeth. She wondered then if maybe someone had put him up to this. But then, who could? "I was completely wrong in my actions, which you did not deserve. There was no need to blow up even with a reputation at stake, and I realize that. I'm sorry, but I don't ask for forgiveness." There was another pregnant pause. And then he spoke again. Suddenly Kel had an epiphany, of just what was going on with Joren. It was like a wave of passion, or like fire-she could not decide which, having never been a romantic. But she listened. "Please...do not hate me for what I've done over the years." Before she realized it, he was gone.  
  
~*~  
  
And now, perhaps Kel was going mad. Had she actually heard the very words come out of his mouth? The mouth of Joren of Stone Mountain? "Please, do not hate me for what I've done over the years." Perhaps it had been a dream, a crazy hallucination. He, of all people, would hardly care what she thought of him. Maybe it was Joren who was going insane.  
But she jerked herself back to the present. The incident of apology had been three days ago. Today, she was to pick up the dress for the squire ball. The squire ball? It rang a bell.  
"Oh no..." she groaned. If Joren remembered, he'd threatened 'to do something' at the ball. But now that he'd apologized, he couldn't very well humiliate her, could he? But this was Joren. Perhaps it had been a lie. A very good, well-planned lie. So what would he do? "Stop it, Kel," she growled to herself, heading out of her quarters and leaving a note for Raoul. "If you want to hate him, hate him-but don't keep thinking about him."  
Yet even as she walked down to the palace gates, it was impossible for Kel to tell herself she really hated Joren, and that she was only feeling physical attraction for him. There was something else that had been stirring inside her, since her dream four nights ago. Like a fluttery, half-panicky feeling, every time she saw Joren, and looked into his eyes.  
She mentally smacked herself as she strode through the gates, heading to the city of Corus. 'Physical attraction, all it is, just physical attraction...' But the chanting did not bore into her as she hoped it would. A nasty little voice kept telling her, 'You love him, admit it. It's more than just physical attraction. You even wonder what it's like to kiss him like in your' "What?!"  
After Kel realized she'd spoken aloud, she clapped a hand to her mouth, horrified and shaking her head. A few passers-by looked strangely at her and continued hurriedly on.  
"Now you've done it, you've gone off your rocker," she muttered, ducking her head embarrassedly as she spotted Lalasa's shop. "Better keep yourself in check now." She pulled the door open to see Lalasa busily stitching a pair of gloves, humming quietly. Kel absentmindedly held the door for someone as they entered, and didn't bother to look behind her.  
Lalasa looked up, unstartled. "Kel, how are you?" she grinned, rushing forward to greet her. A person behind Kel sharply drew in their breath, making her jump.  
"I'm, uh, fine," Kel said half-heartedly, rubbing a hand across the back of her neck.  
"You don't really look it," Lalasa replied dubiously, worry lines creasing her forehead. "Why don't you come into the back and we'll talk...and you can get your dress."  
It was then that Kel noticed the shop was full of people milling around and examining the merchandise. Grateful for the private discussion area Lalasa offered, she followed the older girl into the back, disregarding the open door. She saw her dress hanging in the corner, but she made no move toward it. Instead, she sat upon the stool that her friend offered her.  
"Now, tell me everything, beginning to end."  
"I-I don't know where to start," Kel said, stalling a little, allowing movement in the corner of her eye to distract her a bit. But she continued-and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "I think I'm in love!"  
Lalasa giggled, covering her mouth. "Then why do you look so upset?"  
"Because...because I think I'm in love with the wrong person. It's..." But then, Kel stopped herself, remembering the trial in the city a year ago. Joren was the one who'd hired hit men to kidnap Lalasa, and she didn't want to tell her it was he, out of tact for her.  
"Well? Who is it?" Lalasa pressed excitedly, grinning. Kel could see she had no idea. It tore her that now she'd be upset at her for whom she loved.  
"You won't like it. It's best I don't tell you." Kel had her best Yamani face on, trying not to betray herself. She heard rustling very near the open door.  
"Yes, but you never hide much from me. I promise not to hold it against you."  
Kel took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She lowered her voice. "Joren."  
Lalasa's eyes widened, and she covered her mouth.  
Kel noting the older girl's obvious displeasure, rose, saying, "I should go. I know it's wrong, I..."  
Lalasa recovered quick enough to protest, "But your dress..."  
"Right." She glumly sat back down. "I'm sorry to have upset you." Kel thought it useless to try to explain herself, as it was quite impossible. She didn't know why she loved Joren herself.  
"Well, I suppose you're confused, I'll let it go at that." Lalasa took the dress of the rack and motioned for Kel to try it on. Kel obeyed, drawing it carefully over her clothing and stripping underneath. Lalasa buttoned it in the back, and arranged the short, stylish cape about her shoulders. "Fits perfect, if I dare say so myself. Take a look in the mirror."  
She spun to face the mirror, and immediately liked what she saw. The lack of corset accentuated the curves of her hips and lower back, and the full, loose sleeves hid her muscular shoulders and arms. The neckline was low, but not too low, and the lower part of the dress was wide, even without a buttress. The cape came to the middle of her back, and draped over her shoulders. For the first time in days, She smiled. "Thank you, Lalasa." She gave her a warm embrace, and Lalasa blushed.  
"It was nothing. I'm glad you like it." She handed Kel the hanger and a bag, allowing her to put her clothes back on underneath before pulling off the dress and folding it neatly to stow in the bag.  
  
~*~  
  
As Kel left the shop, she discreetly left five gold nobles by the moneybox for the dress. After all, Lalasa deserved it. She glanced out the window, making her way through the throng of people crowding the shop, and then froze. A tall, blond-haired figure hurried away up the street, ducking his head. "Joren..." she whispered, watching the front door close in front of her slowly. "He was HERE?" And then she remembered: holding the door for the person behind her, the sharp in-drawn breath as Lalasa's identity was revealed, the little movements out of the corner of her eye at the open door, the rustling noises as she spilled her story to her friend. "Oh, Mithros!"  
She slowly exited, being careful not to show herself much. The last thing she needed was to further embarrass herself by showing herself to him.  
"Oh, Mithros, he knows..."  
  
  
  
Chapter 8: Two Nights Later  
Until tonight, Kel had been able to avoid Joren as much as possible, save for them being in the mess hall at the same times as each other. For that, Kel was grateful. Now that Joren knew she loved him, facing him would have been too embarrassing for the both of them. But now, with the squire ball looming two bells in advance, worry began to close in on her as she prepared.  
What would happen if they met? Would he be just as red in the face, or would he show resentment toward her feelings? Or something else entirely? Perhaps if he loved her back as she thought he did, he would try to dance with her. That would solve resentment, but what about the humiliation?  
And by Mithros, what was he planning to do to her?  
  
~*~  
  
Joren didn't know. Why had he threatened her in the first place, if he loved her? To scare her? But then, it was hard to jolt a person like Kel enough so that her protective mask dropped, so there was no point in that.  
Maybe he wouldn't do anything at all to Kel. And then, there was the problem that she loved him back. This made everything complicated, forcing them to keep their secrets to themselves lest they be made fools of. Therefore, he couldn't dance with Kel. It was as simple as that. But he WANTED to, was the big conflict.  
  
~*~  
  
Lalasa and her friend Tian helped Kel get ready for the ball. While Lalasa buttoned her dress in the back and straightened the sleeves, Tian powdered Kel's face and put silk flowers in her hair. Kel fussed the whole time.  
"You really don't need to do all this, it's rather unnecessary..." she protested, but Lalasa cut her off.  
"It is too necessary! You're going to a ball, and you're going to be with handsome young men. You're dressing up, whether you like it or not."  
Kel sighed and grinned, rolling her eyes. But at least she wouldn't be overdone like she predicted the other girls would be. 'Well, except for Adalia,' she thought, remembering Neal was bringing her older sister. And she still pondered how that had come about. She hadn't bothered pressing for details any further than she thought was proper.  
So she obeyed when Tian ordered her to open her lips so that they could be painted. She watched in the mirror. 'Well, Kel, you look very nice,' she complimented herself. The green and rust in her dress brought out the color in her hazel eyes, and the blue complimented her white, powdered skin.  
"Now, don't forget-always dance if you're asked," reminded Tian fussily. "It's not nice to turn a man down."  
"I know. I was brought up in an imperial court, in case it slipped your mind." Kel grinned as Tian laughed sheepishly.  
"And don't spill anything," added Lalasa. Kel rolled her eyes again.  
"I'm sixteen, and I can be careful with food and drink. Besides, I wouldn't want to destroy your beautiful stitching."  
"Of course." Lalasa smiled. The bell tolled. One more to go. Kel shivered involuntarily, half excited, half glum. She wondered what Joren was doing just then.  
  
~*~  
  
Joren straightened the collar of his yellow shirt. He really detested the Nond colors, for they didn't suit him well at all, but he knew it was mandatory for him to wear them at social functions. And Paxton wasn't even going to be there-he was off visiting family.  
A part of him wished he had invited a noblewoman as an accompaniment, but he hadn't met any worth taking, so it was too late now. But how would he look if he came alone? Then again, Kel was probably coming alone as well. This was going to look even worse. Yet he managed to shove the negative thoughts out of his head and set to work on fixing his horsetail.  
  
~*~  
  
Just as the women finished with Kel and went back to their places, a knock came at her door. It was most likely Neal. As it turned out when she opened the door, she was right.   
"Come in, Neal. Need fixing up?" she grinned impishly, clucking her tongue. Twenty one years old, and you STILL don't know how to dress for a ball."  
"Imagine what a few years with university students can do to you," he sighed tragically. "Well, get on with it."  
Chuckling, Kel shook her head and straightened his tunic, smoothing out the wrinkles. Then she turned down his collar all around. "Well, there you go. When does my sister arrive?"  
"Never." Neal grinned evilly. "It was a joke."  
Kel blinked, shocked. Since when could Neal pull a good trick on her without her figuring it out?  
"No. Actually, she's supposed to be at the palace gates pretty soon. Had you there, didn't I?"  
Kel laughed. "For a little bit. Now really-how'd you meet her?"  
"It's a secret."  
"You know you're going to tell me sooner or later."  
"Okay, okay. I met her during one of the feast on the royal progress. We got chatting about how boring it all was, until Alanna reminded me I had a table to wait upon. Good enough for you?"  
"Well, now I know."  
"Shall we march to the gates?"  
"Sure. I haven't seen Adie for a while." Kel followed Neal out of her room, closing the door and locking it, and together they headed through the hallways to the palace gates.  
  
~*~  
  
Pulling Kel aside, Neal remembered Joren's threat, and wanted to speak to her privately. Adalia waited patiently a little while down the corridor.  
"So-you haven't any idea of what he might do?"  
"None." Kel stared glumly at the stone floor. She wondered if she should mention her crush and that Joren knew, but she decided against it. Neal would probably think she was sick in the head.  
"let's hope he forgot, eh?" Neal grinned. "As though THAT'S likely," he added quietly.  
"If not, then I'll just avoid him as much as possible. It's a big hall, and there will be nearly twice our normal amount."  
"Good idea. Now if you'll excuse me, I must get back to your exceptionally beautiful sister...  
"Aw, shut it." Kel laughed and punched his shoulder in a friendly manner. Looking out the window, Kel saw the bellboy climbing the tower. It was almost time.  
  
~*~  
  
Joren sat on a chair outside the hall as the bell sounded. Squires stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the doors with their companions, chatting quietly. He wasn't surprised to see that Vinson and Garvey had come alone. He could not see Kel amidst the crowd; she was most likely at the back.  
The doors opened, revealing a brightly lit banquet hall, festooned with garlands and chains of holly and spruce and hemlock. Long tables of foods were spread out against the walls, and servants stood still with trays of refreshments. The young men and women filed in.  
At one end of the room, on a sort of wooden platform, eight musicians played a lively dancing tune. Joren watched as people immediately partnered up for dancing, but he withdrew and stood by the open entrance doors, and took a bubbling red fruit drink from a passing servant. Over in another corner, Kel stood talking to another girl he did not recognize, though the two seemed to resemble one another. He had to refrain from goggling at the squire: she was quite exquisite.  
'Oh, stop it, you poof,' he told himself. 'Three weeks ago, all you could think of was how to get rid of her and now all you can do is moon over her. She's improper, unnaturally tall, probably has more muscle than you do, and she's unconventional. VERY unconventional.' BUT, by Mithros, that was why he all of a sudden loved her. She defied all of what he believed in. They had hated each other, but now, they seemed drawn to each other. Even Joren noticed it. 'Something in both of us has changed,' he realized, sipping his drink and still staring at Keladry.  
  
~*~  
  
"So you and Neal met at one of the feast during the progress?" Kel inquired of her sister, leaning against the wall unconsciously and sipping her punch. Adalia giggled.  
"Uh-huh. He's handsome, don't you think?"  
"To tell the truth..." Kel grinned and leaned closer to whisper. "...I had a crush on him last year."  
"What happened to that?"  
"It just sort of faded, you know."  
"Sure." Adalia smiled, understanding. "Who is it now?"  
Kel's Yamani mask fixed itself upon her. "Does it have to be anyone?"  
"Oh, come on-there has to be SOMEONE."  
"NO."  
"Well, with your 'face' on, I know I can't get to you. I give up!" Adalia sighed heavily and went to find Neal, but before she left earshot, she added, "And I think you're being stared at by a handsome blond man." She turned away.  
Kel blushed and immediately found her gaze locked with Joren's. 'I'm blushing,' was all she could seem to think. Joren leaned against the wall across from her, shadowed by the door, drinking from a small glass. The music, though loud, seemed as though just part of the background. She forced herself away from his blatant stare. 'If only I knew what he'd planned for tonight!' she thought frustratedly.  
  
  
  
Chapter 9: Last Dance  
AS the night wore on and the lights grew dim, Kel passed the time by dancing with each of her friends. Even if it wasn't enjoyable, or not very much, at least it was something to do other than sit around and stare. She and Neal chatted as they danced now.  
"I'm beginning to think Joren forgot about his threat," Kel whispered gleefully. "It's not too long until the last bell of the evening."  
Neal let out a hiss of breath. "I wouldn't be so sure. This is Stone Mountain we're talking about here."  
"You always see the negative side of things," Kel scolded. "Just think about when you're an old man..."  
"I'll probably die at an early age, being a not-so-skillful warrior."  
"Exactly my point," murmured Kel exasperatedly. "Listen to yourself! I'm beginning to wonder how my sister puts up with you!"  
"Harsh."  
"You know it." They drew apart as the song ended, and Kel went back to her spot against the wall. "Now go dance with her," she ordered.  
  
~*~  
  
Joren, however, had not danced nor eaten all night. He contented himself with punch and watching everyone else having fun, including Keladry. 'She's certainly popular,' he mused. 'Compared to me,' he darkly added, remembering his posse of cronies-not-friends.  
But he was getting bored, having nothing to do. A few girls had been eyeing him all night long, but he had no desire to satiate their desire for a piece of man. A few times, Vinson and Garvey had tried to strike up conversation with him, only to be disappointed in his monosyllabic answers.  
Vinson was now off in a corner with a shy-looking girl of about fifteen, flirting quite obviously, as Joren could see. 'I don't even want to know what he'll do next, as he hardly knows her,' he thought. A passing servant took is empty glass and filled again. 'I'll dance in the last song.' He downed his glass. 'With Kel.'  
  
~*~  
  
Most of the chandeliers in the hall, except for two, had been extinguished. The light was now dim, but enough to see by. It was getting late, and the ball was nearly over. 'He's forgotten,' Kel realized, relieved. 'Joren forgot about his threat. I'm safe.' She watched triumphantly as people paired up for one last song. This one was slow and relaxed, with a triplet meter, and Kel immediately found herself swaying to it. 'Maybe I should dance, if I'm going to be like...'  
There was a tap on her shoulder, sharp and light, but enough to jolt her so that she nearly spilled her punch. She whipped around. "Neal, you almost scared the..." But it wasn't Neal. A blonde, handsome, tall Joren looked upon her with cool-but not cold-blue eyes, and as she noticed right off, he had the strangest smile on his face. 'Mithros, he remembered-I'm doomed!' She carefully set her drink on a table nearby.  
She gulped. "Is-Is there something you want?"  
Joren leaned forward, whispering softly. "Only one thing." Kel waited tensely, her best mask on. His next sentence was so quiet she could hardly hear, even straining to do so. He breathed, "That you dance with me."  
Her jaw nearly dropped. This was Joren? Or was this a god in disguise? SHE felt a strange pulling sensation in her heartstrings. 'Mithros, what now'-Joren took hold of her hands, caressing them a bit. All Kel seemed to be able to do was follow him as he led her slowly to the center of the room. Obviously he was taking advantage of the fact that it would be extremely rude if she refused him. But the horrible thing to Kel, as she still found it hard to admit her crush, was that she was happy-inexpressibly joyful, as though in utter bliss. 'Mithros, it IS more then just physical attract'-  
She suddenly felt the burning of a hundred eyes upon her and Joren. 'They're watching, by the gods, every single one of them is watching..." Joren drew her tighter  
~Help me, I'm falling~  
to him, and they swayed and stepped to the music, gracefully moving with each other's bodies. Kel felt warmth envelope her and she pressed into Joren's torso, and she quivered with giddiness. 'But this is so wrong'-Yet, it felt like it was meant to be, as though it was all part of someone's plan-SO THIS WAS IT! Kel nearly froze. 'This was what Joren wanted to do to me, make me dance with him-but the problem is, I like it! And...' Kel swallowed hard. '...He was probably faking a crush on me to make it seem more natural...' She felt like she was going to burst into tears. 'Yamani smooth...think calm, cool, blue lake...'  
And all at once, the song was over. But Joren didn't let Kel draw away. A hand slid to her neck, tilting it back, a thumb stroking the silky skin beneath her ear. Joren was still smiling oddly. He lowered his face closer to hers, until they were just inches apart. Still he came closer. Kel closed her wide eyes. 'What is he doing??' She felt warm lips brush hers, lightly, and then press harder, thrusting hers open. 'Oh, my'-And suddenly she was free from his embrace, looking around at the people, lost, and they were staring at her like she was a ghost. Dizzy and confused, she fled from the room.  
  
  
  
Chapter 10: Explanations  
Joren found Keladry leaning against the wall just outside the entrance to the ballroom, sucking in her breath, obviously trying not to cry. He was frazzled-what should he do? She could hardly look at him, and somehow he had to explain himself-providing she would listen. That was the problem. She barely seemed to acknowledge his presence.  
"Kel?"  
No answer.  
"Keladry?"  
She started sobbing, unable to help herself, and moved away? Had he ever seen her like this? Had ANYONE ever seen her like this? She must have been away from the Yamanis too long. He firmly held her shoulders, bringing her to face him. Through a mask of tears, she managed to meet his eyes.  
"Kel, I can explain. I..." he searched for words. "...Well, that was carrying out my threat." Of course, it hadn't been-he hadn't had the slightest idea of what he was going to do. Kissing her had seemed like a good idea, just seconds ago. "If you want to know," he began in a gentler tone, "That's something I've been aiming to do for a long time." That part was somewhat true, but it had taken him a while to realize he wanted to kiss her, all the same. "I..."  
"What?" Bewilderment crossed Kel's face as she interrupted. "Why?"  
He was silent.  
"All these years we've hated each other. Why have we changed all of a sudden? Why this? In front of everyone...Mithros..." She wiped frustratedly at her salty tears.  
"I don't know. It sounds so...not me...but three weeks ago, something just...something about you altered my thinking somehow. Unexplainable as it is, I think I love you."  
Kel could help herself. She was grinning like a madwoman. She was grinning, and crying, all at the same time. She wondered briefly if she was going mad. "AS you already know, that's a mutual feeling between us. I'm just...really confused. So what's there to explain, then?"  
"Me. I-I was such a jackass these past years. I want you to know I've changed. I really have."  
"That I could tell. Just listen to yourself. Look-that day you apologized; I kind of knew you'd changed. Something in the way you phrased it. And that you begged for me not to hate you."  
For the first time in his life, Joren smiled. Truly smiled, and it was thoroughly genuine. All of a sudden, his eyes weren't so cold, and his hands on Kel's shoulders seemed to burn. "Whatever has happened to us, I guess it can't be all that bad..." With that, he bent down, his lips finding contact with hers.  
After, it was all they could do to keep from flaming. Their arms entwined around each other, their kiss seemed to last forever.  
  
  
THE END  
  



End file.
